


He's Too Old for You

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [122]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-21
Updated: 2008-04-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 02:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4161840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A student crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's Too Old for You

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Nerowill, Emila-Wan, Carol, and Padawan Sue  
> Mali Wane for posting  
> My former betas: Alex and Ula

A knock on the door interrupted Ian's grade computations for his second midterm exam. He looked at his watch -- 7:35 -- five minutes before the end of office hours. "Come in," he called, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.  
  
One of his gymnasts, Darren Malkin, walked into the office and sat in the student chair, scuffing it closer to Ian with his feet. "Hey, Coach." Something in his inflection managed to make it seem over-friendly.  
  
"What can I do for you?" Ian asked mildly.  
  
"I want to talk about us," Darren said, a flirtatious gleam in his eye.  
  
Oh, no. The day just kept getting worse. At least the office door was open and Quinn was due back at any moment. "Stop right there." Ian held up his hand warningly. His wedding band glinted in the early evening light.  
  
Undaunted, Darren rushed on. "Masterson's too old for you. What is he, 18 or 19 years older? He could be your father!"  
  
Ian got up and stared down Malkin's nose. "That's enough. I'm the coach, you're a Skyhawk, and that's it." His voice was quiet, yet authoritative. "My door is always open to you for any training problems. No personal discussions, period. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Darren's cockiness eroded with each word. "Yes, sir." He scrambled up. "I'm late to practice with Coach Rance on the p-bars. I'll do better in our next run-through." One chastened gymnast left the office.  
  
Ian closed his eyes and rested his head in his hands. He couldn't wait until he was Otto's age -- then he'd never have to deal with a student crush again. Taking Quinn's oft-repeated advice to focus on the here and now, he picked up his pen once more.  
  
Darren passed Quinn in the hall, not able to meet his eyes. He scurried off, leaving the professor to look after him with a compassionate expression.  
  
"I know you can handle this in your sleep, lad, but I wish I'd gotten here sooner for you." Quinn turned the bolt with satisfaction.  
  
"Thanks, love." Gratitude for Quinn's instant support lit Ian's eyes. "Would've made it easier in the short run to cut him off, but I'm glad he got it out of his system."  
  
"True, that. You really laid down the law to him."  
  
"Should've dealt with him sooner. He's been showing off in the gym and asking for extra coaching for weeks now." Ian chuckled. "At least I've made sure he's getting the coaching -- from Otto."  
  
"He must appreciate that." Quinn winked.  
  
"I don't know who's more enthusiastic, Darren or Otto," Ian said wryly.  
  
Quinn sighed. "Some of these kids are in their own little world..."  
  
"A hormonal fog, you mean," Ian clarified with a grin.  
  
"That, too." Quinn smiled and gathered his husband into a hug. "Just wish y'didn't have to deal with this on top of everythin' else." He nodded at Ian's grade computations.  
  
"At least it's rare these days."  
  
Their wedding rings had been even more of a deterrent than they'd dared hope for, most students respecting the obvious message.  
  
Ian let go of Quinn reluctantly and went back to his desk. "It'll take me at least 20 minutes to finish up, okay?"  
  
Quinn sat down and grabbed the copy of The Return of the King he was currently annotating. "No worries, laddie. Whenever you're ready." His thoughts kept drifting off towards the attempted seduction instead of Aragorn's coronation, though.  
  
Half an hour later, they headed out to a beautiful evening. It was in the 50s, positively balmy for upstate New York in April. The THX was in the shop for work on the suspension, so they'd taken the Audi that day. She was purring nicely for Ian, and so was Quinn after one of his lad's devastating grins as he shifted gears.  
  
They stopped at the supermarket to pick up juice, skim milk, and oatmeal. By the time they got home, Ian was yawning. Quinn sent him off to bed, unpacking the groceries and feeding the dogs himself.  
  
What a day his lad had endured, Quinn thought. Not only grading 97 midterms and recording the scores, but having a student come on to him in the office and trying to salvage their working relationship. Talk about overwhelming.  
  
And what Quinn had heard of their conversation had managed to do a number on his own self-esteem. 18 or 19 years older! Though he was glad Ian had been smart enough not to debate Malkin, Quinn couldn't help feeling older and grayer than he had that morning. He knew his laddie still looked like a college kid, but had no such illusions about himself. And now to find out that he looked like Ian's father when there was only a seven-year age difference!  
  
A less hot-headed and more reasonable voice inside him reminded Quinn to keep in mind the source of the comments -- a would-be rival.  
  
He couldn't sleep like this. Stripping to his boxer-briefs in the living room, he settled on the hearth rug for a cleansing kata.  
  
Ian was asleep when Quinn padded into the bedroom about twenty minutes later. He slid into bed next to his husband, arm gentle over his waist so as not to wake him. Ian unconsciously pushed back towards him, and Quinn kissed his hair softly. A moment later, he joined his lad in sleep.


End file.
